


Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

by runningsissors



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningsissors/pseuds/runningsissors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This boy (the one with the shining eyes and carefree smile; the one who hasn’t offered her his whole heart only to have it stomped on) is gone forever." </p><p>It's hard to move forward when you can't feel your feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rome Wasn't Built in a Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MajestaMoniet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajestaMoniet/gifts).



> Originally written for majestamoniet for the 2012 theair_thesun fic exchange over @ livejournal

_" For a while" is a phrase whose length cannot be measured. At least by the person who is waiting."_

_— Haruki Murakami (South of the Border, West of the Sun)_

 

 

He follows her wherever she goes. His face (his wide grin, his dark expressive eyes) haunts her at every street corner. Every telephone pole, light post and street sign; every mail box and community message board plastered with a weathered down picture. The face of a boy she knows they’ll never find.  

 

**HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY?**

 

This boy (the one with the shining eyes and carefree smile; the one who hasn’t offered her his whole heart only to have it stomped on) is gone forever.

 

 _You did this,_ the signs say to her. _You broke him and now he’s gone. You hurt him so deeply he couldn’t even be human. Even if he does come back, he’ll never look like that again. That smile’s gone, you’ve taken it from the world._  

 

She looks around the cab of the beast, and feels a fresh wave of sobs threatening to overtake her. If she closes her eyes she can still imagine him in the seat beside her, fiddling with the radio or vents, his knee bouncing like his can’t keep still. She half expects him to be there when she glances over, smiling at her with that easy grin and arm hanging out the window.

 

But he’s not, and it breaks her heart.

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She knows Charlie is mad at Billy and her for their seemingly laid back attitudes about Jacob running away. He doesn’t understand why she’s not as frantic to find Jacob as he is. She notices the way he looks at her, like he doesn’t recognize the girl sitting across from him at breakfast every morning. She doesn’t quite recognize the girl she’s become either.

 

She knows her father loves Jacob just like he was his own, and though he’d never say it, Jacob’s been more of a child to him over the years than Bella ever was. It was Jacob’s drawings that had hung on the fridge door, and his soccer games Charlie cheered at.

 

He’s family, and you don’t turn your back on family in their hour of need.

 

“I don’t get it, Bella,” he finally says one night after Alice and Edward have left with wedding plans in hand. “You say he’s your best friend, yet I seem to be the only one that wants to find him.”

 

“He _is_ my best friend, Dad.” She has to focus on her plate to keep the tears at bay. “I love Jake.”

 

“Well,” he mumbles more to himself than directed at her, “you sure have a funny way of showing it sometimes.”   

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

“Seth,” she gasps into the phone, “What do you mean he’s not coming back?”

 

“It’s hard to read what he’s thinking, but I think he’s hoping eventually the wolf will just take over.” She tries to muffle the sob that escapes, but she can’t and Seth coughs uncomfortably. He can’t do that. Billy needs him. The Pack needs him. _She needs him_. “Look, Bella, we don’t know what’s going on with him; he’s really good at keeping us out of his head. I promise the minute I know something, you’ll know something.”

 

“But where is he going? Can’t any of you intercept him or something?” she asks desperately, clutching the phone cord to her chest.

 

“He’s in Canada now, somewhere up north, I think. We’d never be able to catch up to him. He’s made it so we can’t. Sorry, Bella; we all want him to come back. Just give him some time. He’s feeling pretty bad right now.”

 

“I know, I’m sorry. I- I just miss him.”

 

 

 

 

  
+

 

 

 

 

Her truck breaks down almost three weeks after Jacob runs away.

  
  
  
“No,” she cries, her hand shaking around her key as the ignition whines for the third time. “Please,” she sobs, rubbing her hands along the steering wheel, before turning her key for the fourth, fifth, sixth time. “You’re all I have of him. I need you. Don’t leave me, too!”

 

In the back of her head there’s a voice that’s chastising her. _He didn’t leave you,_ it says. _You left him remember. You wiped your hands clean of him as he lay on his bed bandaged and broken._

 

Eventually, when she can barely see through the tears that swim in her eyes, she crawls out of the cab and back up to her room, her arms curling around her stomach as she lies on her bed.

 

Edward finds her like this an hour later. “This is a good thing,” he says, rubbing his hands along her back as she cries into her pillow. “Now I can buy you something that will keep you sa—”

 

“No,” she croaks out, her voice raw from her tear,s. “No new cars. Jake will fix my truck when he comes home.”

 

“Bella,” he begins with a deep, sad sigh. His hands are stroking her hair now. “Jacob isn’t coming back.”

 

“Yes he will.” She says vehemently, shaking her head so hard it makes black spots appear in her vision. “I know he will. He _has_ to.”   

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She should feel better than this with the wedding only weeks away now. Alice fans clippings of flower arrangements from wedding magazines, and swatches of fabric for the bridesmaid’s dresses across her kitchen table, and all Bella can feel is how much she wants to just curl up in her bed and hide her head under the covers.

 

She made her choice. She can’t breathe without Edward, can’t imagine blinking another eye without him right by her side. So then why does she feel like she’s lost everything? 

 

There’s a flyer under her pillow, crinkled and smeared. Sometimes she pulls it out, runs her finger along the blurred shape of his cheek, his eyes, his lips, and frowns ( _I’m sorry_ , she whispers into the paper. _I never wanted this to happen_.)

 

 

 

 

+

_Please pick up,_ she thinks frantically. _Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up._

  
  
“Hello?”

 

“Seth,” she breathes, her hands shaking, “I know you said you’d call when—”

 

“Bella,” the voice says, and she stops because it's too deep and rough to be Seth’s. She _knows_ that voice.  
  


  
“Quil?” she mumbles, “hi, uh, where’s Seth?”

 

“He’s around.” Even through the miles that stretch between her phone and the Clearwater’s, she can feel the agitation in his voice. “Listen, Bella stop calling. You’ve done enough damage as it is.”

 

“I can’t.” She swallows back the lump in her throat. “He’s my _best friend_ , Quil. I have to know he’s okay.”

 

“Yeah, well, he’s my best friend, too” he snaps, “and you royally fucked him over. Who do you think you are sending him an invitation to your damn wedding?” She knows it’s true, but she can’t help but feel like she’s just got a slap in the face. _She_ didn’t send the invitation. Edward did. “Look, get married, drink blood and enjoy your everlasting death; I don’t care. Just forget about Jake, and don’t come 'round here anymore, okay.”  
  
  
  
She pauses. Lets the words sink in. _Don’t come around here anymore._ She’s heard those general words before, but last time she’d been uninvited to La Push, there’d been rain and an ache in her body she hadn’t known could exist. “Quil, please...” she begin, the words she so badly wants to say are not able to come out with the constriction of her throat.

 

“Sorry, Bella,” he mumbles, sounding more like himself for the first time. “Despite all the shit that happened, I really did think you were a cool girl.” 

 

The line goes dead before she can even wrap her head around what’s just happened. 

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

The dish water swirls down the drain with a loud ‘slurp’, and Bella can’t help but wish she could, too.

 

Edward will be here any moment to take her to his house, so she can try samples from the all various bakeries Alice has been to for the wedding cake.  

 

As she’s drying off her hands, she stares at her unadorned fingers for a moment. She always takes Elizabeth Mason’s ring off when she does the dishes. It’s so large she fears it will slip right off her finger and down the drain.

 

Bella eyes it, lying there on her outdated kitchen counter looking completely out of place and her stomach twists into knots. She dreads wearing it. She’s unaccustomed to the weight of it on her finger, even after almost two months of wearing it. It’s always in the way (she practically cradles her left hand everywhere she goes in fear of chipping the brilliant diamond), and it sticks out with everything in her wardrobe.

 

Just the thought of putting it back on her finger makes her seize up. Time seems to be speeding up and slowing down in the same moment. She’d pushed for this, the quick wedding and even hastier transformation. But now it’s all too soon. She’s unprepared for what lies ahead.

 

There’s a knock at the door and her heart lurches into her throat. “I hope you’re not too full from dinner,” Edward calls, stepping inside, “because Alice has gone a little overboard with the cake selections, and since you’re the only one who can eat any of it, I’m afraid you’ll be quite stuffed by the end of the evening.”

 

“Oh” she says breathlessly, her voice quivering. “I’m not sure I have much of an appetite.”

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She can’t shake the feeling that time has sped up around her. She’ll be a Cullen by the end of the month.

 

Suddenly every moment is precious; every yawn, every bruise, and every breath that passes through her lungs. She wonders for a moment if this is how terminally ill patients feel, before feeling guilty for comparing her situation to some one suffering so. 

 

She’s sure Charlie thinks she’s gone ‘round the bend. Especially after he catches her sobbing on the bathroom floor with a box of tampons crushed to her chest. (She refuses to see that as anything other than a stress induced break-out, and smothers Rosalie’s voice, along with a forest and children's laughter.)

 

She can’t control it. She feels like a damn leaking faucet, the tears come so easily and sporadically now. It ranges from the taste of her Cheerios to an email from Renée. Nothing and everything is a reminder of what she’s about to give up. 

 

She can’t go on like this, hiding away in her house to avoid the things she desperately wants to ignore. (Blotchy flyers that await her at every corner, and the whispers and gossip about the child bride and groom. When Jessica had gotten her invitation, she'd actually called Bella up to ask her if she was pregnant.)

 

The world is tugging her in a thousand different directions, and she can’t choose which one to follow. Something’s got to give.  
  
 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

“I don’t understand what you want, Bella.” Edward sighs, head hung between his legs. “I thought we’d made a bargain.”

 

“And it still stands,” she says quickly, threading her fingers through his. “I- I just need a little more time than I thought I did. At least until Jacob comes back-” immediately he pulls his hand from hers and she feels the cool burn of the warm air on her skin.

 

“Bella, he’s not coming back. The Pack has made that perfectly clear.”

 

“They’re wrong.” She snaps, blinking back tears. “Jake wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t just abandon the people he loves.”

 

It’s only after she catches the pain that flashes through Edward’s eyes, does she realize just exactly what she’s said.

 

“Edward, I’m sor-” she begins, but he shakes her off, standing from the bed now. “That came out all wrong. I didn’t mean it.”

 

“Yes, you did. Not consciously.” He says brokenly. “Just as wanting to post-pone the wedding is just the inevitable lead up to the fact that you _never_ -” he glances at her now with a wistful look “-wanted this marriage in the first place. Try as we might, we can never return to the way things were before last September.”

 

She feels like a broken rag doll. All she can do is stare at the floor, unsure of if she’s even still breathing. “Then what do we do?” she asks, her voice coming somewhere deep from within her. “Please, Edward, I love you-”

 

“This is so ridiculous,” Edward snaps, “I was a fool to ever think he would make the honourable choice.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Bella watches him pace gently, agitation coming off him in waves practically.

 

“Can’t you see, Bella?” he’s down on his knees now, his hands once again clasped around her own. “This is exactly what he wants. He’s manipulated you into a state of guilt, so you’ll call off the wedding.”

 

Bella feels her heart jump into her throat. “You think Jacob ran away on purpose, all in hopes that it would make me want to call off the wedding?” The longer the words hang there, ugly and cold, the more offended she feels. She pulls her hand harshly from his, shaking her head. “How can you even think that? Jacob’s in pain and it’s entirely my fault.”   
  
  
  
 _It's both our fault, I lead him on but you, you pushed him. You sent the invitation. Anything to make him hurt._

 

Edward pushes back onto his heels, his beautiful face crumpling into a scowl. “Is it such an outrageous idea? He’s done it before; taken advantage of the fact that you never want to hurt people, and played it against you.”  
  
  
  
“That was different.” Bella snaps, the need to defend not only herself, but Jacob as well, pulsing within her. “You don’t know Jake the way I do. He was really upset and hurt. You’d flaunted our engagement right in front of him, knowing how distressed and angry it would make him.”

 

“I know Jacob Black plenty enough. I’ve seen his thoughts. He’s arrogant and childish.”

 

Her head feels light. “I think you should leave.” The words feel like lead on her tongue. Quickly she shuts her eyes because she wants to hold onto this feeling, this sweltering anger that’s seeping into every corner of her body. She knows if she looks at him, at his archangel face for even a moment, she’ll crumble and succumb to anything he says, and she doesn’t want that. She knows with every fibre of her being that this time Edward’s wrong. That he’s crossed a line beautiful words can’t remedy. 

 

She can feel his eyes on her, and with a sickening feeling Bella realizes this is the first time they’ve ever had a real honest-to-god argument. This is the first time their relationship has ever felt less like a dream, and more like reality. 

 

“All right, Bella,” he says evenly. “Whatever you want.” 

 

 

 

 

+

  

 

 

 

Her window’s been locked for a day before she finds the courage to pick up her cell phone.

 

There are ten from Alice, frantic rambling messages about centre pieces and whether steak would be okay, or should they take advantage of the seasonal Pacific Salmon, and one from Edward.

 

She feels her stomach drop. She wishes she could have at least some indication of what’s about to happen, but he’d been so terse on the phone when he’d said he would come by later. And now it’s time and her stomach feels like it wants to run away from her body.

 

“Bella, I-” he begins solemnly, his hands clenched at his sides as he stands in the doorway between the kitchen and the front hall, like he can’t quite decide if he wants to step in. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Edwar-”

 

“I’ve been over this, and I honestly cannot figure out what exactly is the right thing to do here. You love me, I’ve never doubted that. You don’t want to get married, but you want to be with me. But you love Jacob, too. Despite what you say, I know you love him. And for us to go on pretending like you don't is simply wrong.”

 

He sighs, rubs a hand along his jaw and Bella feels like she might actually faint her heart is beating so fast in her chest. “Bella, I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I’d ever love anything or anyone. I’m dead, an unnatural entity. I shouldn’t get to feel love like this, but I do, and sometimes it blinds me from seeing other things. I promised I would never leave you, and I won’t, but we can’t go on like this.”

 

“I know.” She mumbles, trying to fight back the dizziness.  

 

“But what happens if Jacob comes back? Have you honestly thought about this, Bella? What happens to us, you and me and the life you want us to have; what happens to it if Jacob comes back? I can’t simply walk away again.” His lips twitch as he tries to fight back emotions. “I _can’t_. But I also can’t share you with him. If you want a life with me Bella, then I want all of you, not just the parts that don’t belong to someone else. Because once you change Bella, it’s a very long time to live with regret, and I don’t think I could watch you become like that. I don't want to linger on what could have been.”

 

“I want you.” She breathes. “I want to be with you forever.” She’d never known what she’d wanted out of life before she’d met Edward, and then suddenly her future had been laid out before her and she’d known.

 

His smile is sad. “That’s what makes you so beautifully human, Bella. You’re so passionate about everything. You walk through life with your heart so open for others, and you give it so willingly. And that’s why I’ve decided I can’t change you.”

 

No. He can’t do this. Not again. “B-but you can’t.” She gasps. “We made a deal, remember? And anyway, you promised the Volturi that I’d be changed.”

 

He frowns, crossing his arms across his chest. “Yes, I realize that. But the Volturi are not your concern. Carlisle and I will deal with them, if the time ever comes.” 

 

She can feel her throat constricting. “And you think Alice will be okay with this? I’ll get her to do it, if you won’t.”

 

Edward chuckles sadly at this, “Oh, I know.” He murmurs. “But,” he says, his face pained and hollow once again, “Alice knows that I would never forgive her, or anyone else in my family if they changed you against my wishes. And really, Bella is that the way you would want it? To be stripped of your humanity simply to defy me? I don’t want that kind of bitterness between us.”

 

When she feels like her grip on the counter can’t sustain her weight anymore, she shakily takes a seat at the kitchen table.  
  
  
  
“So,” she begins, shocked at how even her voice is. “What do we do?”

 

When she looks up to meet his gaze, for the first time she feels like she can finally read him. It’s devastating. They’re damned if they do, and they’re damned if they don’t. She can see it in his eyes, and oh, God, what is she going to do?

 

“I don’t know.” He finally replies.

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

The last notifications are sent out and deposits are cancelled, and when it’s all done and over with there’s this hollowness inside of her that seems to swallow her whole.

 

What is her life now? She’s no plans, no ideas, and no goals. The world is spinning and she stands rooted to the ground, unable to move forward, not wanting to look back.

 

Two weeks later Seth calls to say they can hear Jacob again, and for the first time in a while she feels like she can breathe without it hurting.   

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

“I know it’s been a rough year, baby, but I think in the end this was all for the best.”

 

Renée smiles reassuringly at her from across the table as their waitress places food down in front of them, and Bella stabs at the lime wedge at the bottom of her glass of coke with her straw. She’d told her not to bother with her ticket, that she’d reimburse her for the cost of the flight if she had to. But Renée had refused, claiming a half assed excuse about seeing college friends in California, and how she might as well come down to see her only child.

 

Bella knows really though she’s just being checked up on. Charlie walks around her on eggshells, the desperate worry of her relapsing into her catatonic state of last fall clear on his face.

 

She won’t let herself do that this time though. She wasn't completely dumped this time around. 

   

“And,” Renée adds, “I definitely agree that some time off will be good for you. I know you’ve said no, but really, Bella, you don’t have to stay here just because you think your dad wants you to. I think Florida would do wonders for you.” Renée reaches out to brush some hair from Bella’s face. “You’re so pale. Some sun would do you good.”

 

“I’m always pale, Mom.” She mumbles, pushing at her fries.  “And I appreciate the offer, but really, I’m fine in Forks. I have a job still, and if I’m going to afford college next year, I need the work.”

 

“You could easily work in Florida.”

 

“It’s fine, Mom.”

 

Renée frowns, “Baby, I wasn't going to say anything, but does this not wanting to leave have anything to do with that friend of yours? Because Charlie told me about it an—”

 

“Seriously, Mom,” she hisses, cheeks flooding with heat. “I don’t want to live in Florida, and I really don’t want to discuss any of it right now. Can we please just eat lunch and talk about something else. Anything else.” 

      

“Okay, Bella. Whatever you want.”

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

Three days later Jacob comes home, and Bella wakes up on the morning that was meant to be the first day of her life as Mrs. Cullen, alone in her bed, and so very human.  

 

 

 

 

+ 

 

 

 

 

Her feet feel like lead on the stairs. She’d waited all week for Charlie to drive her down, and now that she’s here, she can’t do it.

 

She knows what the cover is, that Jacob had been staying with a sister of his mother’s out in Spokane. She could tell that Charlie had more question, the cop that he is, burning to prod at the holes in Billy’s story. But he’d not pushed it, at least not for now any way.   

 

What will he say to her? God, she can barely think about the way he’ll look at her. He must hate her. They all must hate her.

 

“Bell,” Charlie calls from the front step, “You okay?”

 

She swallows back the lump in her throat. “Yeah,” she mumbles, “yeah, I’m okay.”

 

 

 

 

+

 

 

 

 

She finds him sprawled on the grass behind the house; bare feet flat to the ground and his knees to the sky.

 

God, she could cry just looking at him; at the tangles in his hair and dirt stained to his legs.

 

“Billy said you’d be out here,” she says meekly, her hands falling awkwardly at her sides as she walks towards him.

 

She coyly stretches out beside him, and though it’s just a few feet between them, it might as well be miles. (It's wrong; so wrong. This space, this unrelenting distance between them.) She turns to look at him, at the clenched, hard line of his jaw and the steely look in his eye. He’s back, but she wonders if _he’s_ really here. How much of him is still running with four paws against the ground?

 

“Hi,” she mumbles, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

His lips twitch, curling at the corners. “Hey,” he replies, his voice cracking as if it’s not been used in a while. She can only guess how long he’s been a wolf. They lay like this, the silence heavy on her chest and all she wants is for him to look at her. She wants to take his hand and squeeze it till his skin melts into hers.

 

“Jake, I-” she reaches out and he flinches, his body jerking away from her touch. In this moment she doesn’t think there’s anything he could say that would hurt as much as this.

 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her hand recoiling quickly to her side. “I didn’t me... I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, “still trying to get back into human mode. I’m a little on edge.”

 

She nods, blinking back hot tears. She will not cry. Not today. 

 

“Sorry about your wedding.”

 

Before she can stop it, a puff of laughter leaves her. “No, you’re not,” she says, turning back to look at him. He’s smirking now, long black strands of hair sweeping across his brow. 

 

“Yeah, okay. No, I’m not.”

 

It’s silent again, and she pulls at a blade of grass.  She wants to make this better, but she doesn’t know how. She doesn’t even know if it can be better.

 

“My truck died. The ignition won’t start.” _It broke when you left. Too heart sick to go on. Smart truck._

 

“I’ll take a look at it later.”

 

There’s so much to rebuild, but if he’ll give her the chance, she’ll be whatever he needs. He’d picked her up when the world had been crumbles at her feet, and now she’ll do the same for him.

 

“I missed you,” she chokes out, and it feels like the most honest thing she’s said in months, because she did miss him, terribly, desperately so.

 

He turns to look at her finally, his dark eyes pooling into her  and no longer is she lost. Maybe they'd always been headed for this; she can't tell. But she knows this is where she’s meant to be right now: here beside Jacob with the warm wind on her skin. She can't say that tomorrow will be better, or that she'll ever be right with whatever lays ahead of her. But as long as Jacob still wants to hold her hand, then she'll survive.  
  
  
  
“Yeah," he replies, "I missed you, too.”  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: a twist on canon, a twist of a heart, a twist of lime


End file.
